Whispers of the Past
by Nicola
Summary: Six centuries into the future Angel meets up with a girl from his past, but she’s slightly different, and has an amazing trick to teach him.


Whispers of the Past  
By Nicola  
  
Disclaimer: I own Desdemona. All other characters, except those you've never heard of, belong to the big man upstairs. Don't sue me okay?  
Rating: PG-12 (extremely mild swearing)  
Spoilers: Surprise, I think. Not much else  
Season: Future  
Started: Aug '00 Completed: 23rd July '01  
Teaser: Six centuries into the future Angel meets up with a girl from his past, but she's slightly different, and has an amazing trick to teach him.  
Notes: To me, cos I like me! Also, to Matt Groening and co. for thinking up Futurama. This world is like that world, only the people are real. Italics are the demons talking.  
  
He was going to die. It was as simple as that. His own stake had punctured his hand and twelve of his own kind were grinning at him with glistening fangs, preparing to pounce and finish his extended life. Angel's unlife didn't flash before him. Instead, his thoughts went to the only woman he had ever loved in the eight centuries he had existed: Buffy.  
  
As if the very thought had conjured her, she landed on the ground in front of him, protecting him. Angel couldn't believe his eyes. It was a trick, or a ghost, or someone who looked exactly like her. It had to be someone else, Buffy was dead. The vampires around him growled menacingly at his saviour. He caught a glance of what looked like a twentieth century children's water gun. The vampires were all less than a century old, so they looked at it quizzically. The girl pulled on the trigger and water gushed out. It soaked through the vampires' clothes and they screamed as steam rose from their burning bodies. The demons quickly dispersed, fleeing in terror. The girl watched their retreating forms. She screeched when an audible hiss came from her hand, spinning and shaking the wounded limb. Angel nearly passed out when he saw her.  
  
It was Buffy. It couldn't be anyone else. No one had ever turned his head like she had, and she was standing right before them. She noticed him as if she hadn't realised he'd been there. Cocking her head to the side, she gave him a wide grin.  
  
"Long time no see. Can you believe I had to steal that water gun from a museum?" Angel simply stared at her. Her eyes wandered to his bleeding hand and she was by his side in an instant. She didn't give Angel a chance to prepare as she yanked out the sharpened stick. He growled in pain. Hurriedly she ripped off the sleeve from her black shirt and wrapped it around his bleeding limb. He'd fed recently. The pain brought him back to Earth, and he focused on the blonde.  
  
"B...Buffy?" he whispered. Buffy stopped and met his gaze.  
  
"Yes Angel. I'm Buffy. I'm not a ghost, and we need to get out of here before the sun rises." Angel placed his good hand over hers.  
  
"How?" he asked simply. Buffy shook her head and pulled Angel to his feet.  
  
"Hide now, talk later." Before he could answer she dragged him out of the dark alley and onto the street. She glanced from one side to the other, then up at the quickly brightening sky. "D'you have a place near here?" Angel nodded and, clutching his healing hand to his chest, led the way down the street past parked hover-cars. Buffy followed obediently, every now and then shooting worried glances at the sky. Eventually Angel walked inside a small, run-down bar in the middle of nowhere. He nodded curtly to the bartender, avoided the various demons sleeping or feeding, and continued to the basement stairs.  
  
"Lights," he commanded, and they immediately switched on as they descended. Buffy looked about. There were two very old armchairs, a table and a fridge from the 23rd century. Hanging on one wall was a picture older than Buffy, something he'd had since she'd known him in Sunnydale. She quickly halted her thoughts; it was hardly the time for nostalgia. Angel offered Buffy a seat. She accepted it, a great cloud of dust rising when she sat.  
  
"Don't get many visitors, huh?" she teased, clearing the particles from the air in front of her. He smiled briefly, moving to the fridge. When he turned around, Buffy's senses immediately honed in on the bag that he held with his good hand. Inside was a thin red liquid that she could smell from where she sat.  
  
"You don't mind, do you?" he asked nervously. Buffy had to choke back laughter. When he still looked worried and even a little concerned, she immediately sobered up.  
  
"Angel, can't you feel it?" she queried. Angel frowned.  
  
"Feel what?" he returned, moving to his seat. Buffy sat up straighter, trying to ignore the blood he carried, the gnawing in her stomach and the growl in the back of her head.  
  
"I'm dead, Angel," she stated bluntly. He just stared at her, and she could see the battle he was having with himself. To be angry, hurt, depressed, guilty. It was so clear for her to see. He still loves you, the voice whispered to her with disgust. Buffy pushed it back with practise, and concentrated on Angel. She could hear the small growl in his chest, rumbling slowly. "Look at me Angel," she instructed. Stubbornly Angel stared at the floor. Buffy sighed. "We're too old to play games, Angel. You're the oldest vampire in the world, stop acting like a child and face the truth. I'm dead. I've been dead for six centuries, and four of them were spent with my soul. Deal with it, cos I have." Angel's temper flared.  
  
"How can you be so carefree about this?!" he growled, jumping to his feet and towering over her. Buffy didn't even flinch. "How could you let this happen? You're a..." his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, feeling for a pulse. All he found was cold flesh stretched over a too-skinny hand. "Vampire," he hissed with venom. Buffy looked up at him with timeworn eyes.  
  
"Yes Angel. I'm a vampire. Hence my being over 600 years old. Why don't you just sit down, we can talk, and then you can beat me up and throw me into the sunlight later, yeah?" Her tired tone of voice chilled Angel to the core. He remembered her sounding vibrant and full of life. His anger fled and he sank wearily into his chair.   
  
"How?" he asked miserably. Buffy relaxed slightly, sinking into the soft cushions of the chair. But centuries of training forced her to be tense and alert.  
  
"My second year of college. I was out in the cemetery one night patrolling with Riley. D'you remember him?" Angel nodded gravely, and Buffy continued. "We got attacked by a group of smart demons, real smart. They charged in a group, instead of one at a time. They took down Riley, and I was so busy trying to save him I forgot about myself. My sire was a childe of Spike's." Angel's head shot up at the mention of his childe.  
  
"Did you ever get him?" he asked. Buffy shook her head, a smile on her lips.  
  
"Hardly. When Dru left him he was a wreck. He was in Sunnydale when I was turned. They turned Riley too, but only so they could sort out Spike. After that he was the new Master in Sunnydale. He and I...had a history to say the least. But he didn't let me have a lot of my own fun, cos he knew I'd take over. He became like my surrogate sire. Together we decimated the town. I got to take out all my old friends, only I did it faster than you." Angel was shocked at the comment.  
  
"How can you live with your past?" he asked her. Buffy shrugged.  
  
"I remembered everything you did right and wrong. When my soul returned I decided right away to help people, try to make amends and look on the bright side of my unlife. Eternity was the best and worst point, but I guess you already know that. While I was in Canada in 2489, I met this witch. He was really nice; he didn't scorn me or anything. He taught me this neat little trick that really helped me."   
  
"What trick?" Angel pushed when she didn't elaborate. Buffy smiled at him, and reached out to lay her hand over his.  
  
"Anything she says, I have no control over." Before Angel could question, Buffy closed her eyes and took in a deep unneeded breath. When she opened her eyes again, they had a steely glint in them that Angel didn't like.  
  
"Angelus," she purred, leaning forward. Angel gulped involuntarily and wriggled further back into his chair.   
  
"Who...who are you?" he whispered. She had power greater than anything he'd felt in a long time, and it scared him.  
  
"I can smell your fear," she taunted, ignoring his question. "Why do you fear me, Angelus? It's me, Buffy." Angel knew it was anything but Buffy. The low, deceptively sweet tone of her voice, the evil look in her eye and cruel curve of her smile, all things that Buffy couldn't possibly possess. She knew when her game was up, and pulled back.  
  
"I am Desdemona. You can call me Mona," she said, absently rubbing the back of her head. Her soul was keeping her on a tight leash.  
  
"How is Buffy letting you speak?" was Angel's next question. Mona rolled her eyes.  
  
"You're two centuries older than us and you haven't talked to him? God, that's just pathetic. It's easy to do. You just..." Mona trailed off as Buffy surged back up.  
  
"Stupid bitch," she muttered as she regained complete control over her body. Without wasting a second she answered Angel's question. "What you do is sink back into the semi-conscious part of your mind. It is there, because everything in the universe exists by the rule of three. With a bit of practise you can control most of your body, and you can always hear his thoughts. Having a bit of freedom shut Mona up, so now I don't get half as many headaches." Angel nodded slowly, processing the information.  
  
"Can I try it now?" he asked. Buffy nodded. Slowly Angel closed his eyes, preparing to do whatever it took. With years of practise in the more spiritual martial arts, he didn't find it too difficult to withdraw from the conscious. Angelus immediately took this opportunity, soaring to the surface and completely overwhelming Angel.  
  
"Hello lover," he hissed. Buffy just sat and stared at him. "What? No 'hello'? I'm hurt, really. I..."  
  
"Shut up Angelus," Buffy interrupted in him. "I am not 17 years old anymore, you can kill the charade. Besides, I have just as bad a reputation as you in some circles so you can stop blowing your ego to ridiculous sizes." For once Angelus was speechless. Taking this opportunity, Buffy let Desdemona come to the forth.  
  
"Hello," she murmured seductively, "A little bird told me you got a bit of a telling off. I'm afraid that, this time, I have to agree with Buff. You really do like to hear the sound of yourself, don't you?" Angelus scowled.  
  
"I take it you're Mona, huh? Well, the pleasure's all yours I'm sure," he replied. Mona faked hurt.  
  
"Why Angelus, I'm hurt, really. And here I was hoping we could be such good friends. I mean the only two vampires in the world with souls and you can't even give some empathy? My, you are cruel," Mona taunted maliciously.  
  
"Now who likes the sound of their own voice?" Angelus growled. Mona smiled.  
  
"It's true, I like to talk. But then, having been locked away for the better part of four centuries I have to get out what I can in these short...excursions. Speaking of which, how does it feel to have semi-control of your body? It's a poor substitute, I know, but I must admit I like talking to you. And Buff likes me talking to you too! Isn't that just great?"  
  
"Why does Buff like you talking to me? She hates me, and I hate her. And you," Angelus asked, feigning nonchalance.  
  
"Well, see, a vampire's personality is shaped by the evil in a person. Buff being the slayer, she had a lot of potential evil in her, especially towards you. Now that the evil is personified she can say anything she wants about you, through me. I'm more than willing to speak her thoughts aloud, but some of them are just not fit for your ears." She grinned evilly, her face shifting to the demonic visage. Angelus didn't want to admit how much he liked the ridges on her particular forehead, and the white fangs on her blood red lips. Slowly she pulled back, looking slightly sad and disappointed. "Anyway, I have to go now. See you around!" Her head dropped forward before slowly rising up. Buffy grinned at Angelus.  
  
"How'd you like my other half, hmm lover? Evil enough for you?" she taunted. Angelus just growled as he retreated to his part of the mind. Angel blinked a couple of times before he finally saw Buffy. "Hey," she murmured.  
  
"Hi," he returned, rubbing his head. "And wow."  
  
"Interesting huh?" she pushed smiling. Angel nodded,  
  
"Very. Now that our very close companions have had a chance to talk, isn't it time we did?" he asked. Buffy nodded, when suddenly a growl erupted from her chest. Angel looked shocked. Buffy grinned sheepishly.  
  
"Sorry, I haven't eaten in a few days," she apologised. Angel nodded and moved to the fridge, tossing Buffy a bag of blood before returning to his unopened one. He watched intently as Buffy's face morphed and she sank her long fangs into the bag of pig's blood. She slurped it down hungrily, before she felt eyes on her. Embarrassed, she slowly looked up at Angel, giving a little shrug with one shoulder. He gave her a small smile before copying her actions. Soon the bags were empty and Buffy looked much better.  
  
"So..." Angel began.  
  
"So..." Buffy copied.   
  
"Why'd you come here?" Angel asked. Buffy shrugged.  
  
"I'm not really sure. I've been all over the world, fighting various monsters. I figured you had the old US covered, so I focussed on other hot spots." Angel nodded. "What about you? Last I heard of you, you were off on some wild crusade with the slayer of the time. That was at least a century ago."  
  
Angel nodded again at the memories. "Yeah, some big cult up in Canada trying to bring hell to Earth... again. And the slayer of the time was Alexia." Buffy smiled at his memory, hiding the hurt and jealousy that he remembered the slayer's name.   
  
"And at that time I was in Israel helping the other slayer. The damn vampires were trying to destroy the Wailing Wall by digging a hole underneath, so it wasn't stable. No worries though, it's still standing isn't it?" Angel shrugged, but continued to stare at the woman he loved. "What?" she asked self-consciously.  
  
"Nothing," he replied, shaking himself from his reverie, "It's just, when I met you, you had just barely become the slayer. Now you've been all over the world!" Buffy smiled. There was silence for a moment, before Angel spoke again, "Is your soul permanent?"   
  
"Yup, like yours," she replied. Angel simply nodded, before his head snapped back to Buffy.  
  
"Mine!" he exclaimed in surprise.   
  
"Well, yeah, didn't you know?" Buffy said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"No I didn't!" Angel shouted in neither anger nor happiness. "How?" he asked.  
  
"The demon that cursed me was telepathic. Perhaps it read my thoughts and fixed your soul too?" Angel seemed satisfied with this explanation and relaxed a little, allowing the information to sink in.  
  
"My soul is permanent. My soul is permanent," he repeated to himself, as if saying it would make it all the more real. Suddenly Buffy yawned loudly, grabbing Angel's attention.  
  
"Sorry," she said again. Angel smiled.  
  
"It's fine. You can sleep in my bed if you want," he offered, pointing her to an army-like cot in the corner.  
  
"Where will you sleep?" Buffy asked.   
  
"The couch," Angel replied. Buffy shook her head, standing and offering her hand to him. Angel took it unquestioningly and followed her to the bed. He climbed in first, and Buffy followed after, curling herself into his embracing. In all her four centuries on Earth, she had never felt as safe and loved as when she did when Angel held her. Smiling happily, she soon fell asleep as the sun rose higher in the sky.  
  
Angel watched her sleep. He was too preoccupied to do so himself, what with all this new information. His Buffy was back, and with the news that his soul would no longer leave when he experienced happiness. He'd only been so happy once, on her 17th birthday. It was over half a millennia ago, but he remembered it all like it was yesterday. As midday approached, Angel began to feel tired and curled up with his old flame, relishing the feel of her next to him once more before drifting off to sleep.  
  
  
End at Last!  
  



End file.
